Best Flatlands Poems
Spring dapples the prairie flatlands
with colors' majestic splendor.
And the landscape gets painted with
purple pigments and soft pastels.
Tepid Chinooks melt mountain snows
that feed meandering rivers.
Fueling lazy loops, snaking
across an emerald grassland.
Dawn, gilding the edge of darkness,
heralds the day's resurrection.
And a rising sun imbues light
with a sense of hope and magic.
A watermelon horizon
marks the birthplace of a new day.
And pink, cotton-candy clouds float
upon a sea of vermilion.
Reminiscent of paradise,
Nature's wildflowers are in bloom.
And their dew-kissed petals open,
basking under indigo skies.
The sun is getting hotter now,
And snow begins to thaw.
A trickle of water runs down.
Soon, it finds its usual track.
One may call it a stream,
But soon, it swells and starts to tumble
Over the rocks, carving its landscape
Only to join other streams downhill.
It swells into a tumbling river,
Divide into parts, run to a water mill,
With a force to grind the wheat.
The other pours into flatlands,
Where occasionally small lakes form
And living nutrients abound.
Survival depends on strength.
Snails, water fleas and shrimps
Become the food of predators.
Roaches, pikes and other fish
Make heyday of their food.
But they are not the rulers of the river.
Let man find such lakes and ponds.
A large fishing rod and tasty bait
An attraction for the various fish.
Men make a lovely lunch with their catch.
Totems are formed through a talisman tribal identity.
*
Talisman emblems to the tribal identity.
Totem to raise above the distinctiveness of foreign Indians.
Democracy is bureaucracy to their form in the Americas.
Columbus verbalize the inhabitants to be Indians.
Native tribes are the origin of the hills, mountains, flatlands, and prairies.
China brought their prairie dog and pitted him against Mayan’s.
They must think they will crest in the United States of America.
Mayan Tribe resides in Mexico.
Therefore, these immigrants better venture further.
I am not trying to miscommunicate my pillaring.
I am gore from the origin I speak of.
I am not volatile to the carnage of man.
I am (the) only representation of peace in the motherland.
Twenty-twelve and I am fulfilled with empowerment.
Charmed by my own intellect, I am an epitome of women’s health.
Taiwan, Asia has provided me insight
Of the plight that my body manifests.
Physicality did through a technical presence
To demean dignity for blokes.
I am fortified by prophecy foretold.
I hope this is not confounding the mind.
Miscommunication is not a strength of mine.
I aspire to pierce the thoughts to impale or to prevent a loss.
My origin is first and foremost.
Amulet, the synthesis conjecture is that talisman tribal identity forms totem poles.
_______________________________________________________|
Penned April 13, 2015!
Where the fields meet the sky,
Where ears of golden corn reach high
And winding tree-lined lanes pass by,
See the flatlands which stretch away
On a sunny, blue-sky day
With wind-blown, snow-white clouds at play.
Where sounds of Summer fill the air
And showers sprinkle water where
Young flowers flourish without care.
Where daylight overcomes the dark
To welcome the ascending lark
Whose song is England's living spark.
Country beauty fills all the view
With shades of green and golden hue
And scents of fragrant blossom too.
Old men sit here and reminisce
About those bygone days they miss,
Evenings spent in Bury and Diss.
Suffolk countryside lies at rest,
Of all East Anglia the best,
Constable-country treasure chest.
My muse went on vacation, to the tropics it did go.
I wish I could go with it, but my boss told me no.
I’m afraid it won’t come back; I wouldn’t if I were it.
And my writings are getting pretty sketchy…
I need help you know, real quick!
So to solve the problem I sent the trolls, from the basement they did go.
My basements kind of empty now, with only dust left on the floor.
And my Hubby’s kind of mad that I sent his friends to travel on…
It seems the trolls were HIS muses, for all the topics so dead-on.
Now instead of things getting better, my Hubby’s not talking, at all, to me.
If they don’t come back soon, I know there’ll be heck to pay, you see.
I think that with boredom setting in… maybe my Hubby’s about to explode.
What I thought would help… just might have been: a boo boo, you know.
But low and behold, I got a post card and my muse will SOON be coming home.
He has stories out the ying yang… like how the trolls invaded the last luau.
Everyone mistook them for local demons and scattered everywhere, some how.
And one is engaged to a volcano demon and can’t wait to bring her home, now.
He thinks the Missouri flatlands could use a tourist boost, with more allure.
And a steaming Mt. St. Missouri would be just the thing, for sure.
Thank you God!!! They’re coming home… is all that I can say!!!
Unfortunately my neighbors might not see it, clearly, the same way.
Though I am a LITTLE worried, that as the volcano demon settles in…
They might just take it upon themselves: to run me out of town!!! Again!!!
Though I might not blame them, just a little bit…
Still, I can’t wait to get back to work… I truly must admit!!!
CSEastman
leopard's domain
flatlands hilltops jungle
scavanger's feast
"GOD IS"
GOD IS...
In every puffy cloud,
In all the rain and snow,
In every thunder roll,
And every lightning show.
GOD IS...
In every blade of grass,
In every leaf and tree,
In every flower petal,
And every busy bee.
GOD IS...
In every stirring breeze.
In every bit of calm,
In every howling wind,
And every swaying palm.
GOD IS...
In every cooing creek,
In every stream that be,
In every rushing river,
And every drop of sea.
GOD IS...
In every valley lush and green,
All across the flatlands,
Up mountains to their peek,
And all the desert sands.
GOD IS...
In every sun's ray,
In every moonbeam.
In every twinkling star,
Under which, we dream.
GOD IS...
In every creature of the land,
In every creature of the sea,
In all the life there is,
Including you and me.
GOD IS...
In every second of every hour,
In every day of every week,
In every month of every year
And all we're meant to seek.
GOD IS...
In every beating heart,
In every living soul,
Whether He's rebuked
Or welcomed to extol.
GOD IS...
In every breath of life,
In every new birth,
In every final breath
And tally of one's worth.
GOD IS...
All that is truth;
All that is right;
All that is good,
Divine Love and Light.
GOD IS Omniscient.
GOD IS Ubiquitous;
IS Creator of the Heavens,
Earth, and every one of us!
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2018-06-11 07:45:00 (EDT)
All rights reserved.
I see you standing in the moonlight
Across the prairie fields
A stetson pulled down o'er your eyes
A thoroughbred at your heels
A shadow cast upon the ground
Your silhouette I see
Standing tall, alert and sure
You seem to watch for me
I stand in wait, you tip your hat
And into the saddle slide
As you close the distance in between
A tear wells in my eye
You've rode through streams and flatlands
Crossed o'er the mountains steep
You kept your word and came for me
My heart is yours to keep
We ride off into the moonlight
Too perfect though, it seems
It's then I wake and realize
You're just an angel in my dreams
low looming clouds drape
rich fertile furrows
loaded with buried tulip bulbs
launching necessary nourishment
to carefully cultivated beds
scores of fresh Spring blooms
arise in symphonic, harmonic accord
awakening serene landscape...
blanketing verdant flatlands
with sheets of vibrant colors
for a brusque season
I pause in awe
at Earth's lavish artistry
"Silken Planes"
Simplicity in silken planes
Silence took a flight of fancy
Sensate entranced me
"Flatlands" / Lannegan & Wolfe
https://youtu.be/pq47_j82iEo
"Flatlands" / Lannegan & Wolfe, Lyrics
https://genius.com/Mark-lanegan-flatlands-lyrics
LUX VITAE
BELIEVE
https://youtu.be/xubCItLvNhE
Chamber of Commerce types do a grand job of toutin' the beauty of Colorady.
Folks from Texas and the flatlands of Indiana come to find their El Dorady!
Hordes of tourists flock here to enjoy the mountains and pristine skies!
They see elk, buffalo and even bears - they jes' cain't believe their eyes!
The latest batch of 'tourists' to invade our fair state was the Doughtery gang,
After shootin' at cops and robbin' banks and creatin' untold sturm und drang!
Normally, we welcome visitors and are very proud to show them around,
But these 'tourists' were greeted by the state patrol and now are prison bound!
Another clutch of 'tourists' who loved Colorady were the infamous Texas Seven,
Who after a spree in Texas a few years ago were spotted at a local Seven-Eleven!
They sought haven to enjoy the scenery and that refreshin' mountain air,
But now reside in the hoose-gow, lucky to have cheated the electric chair!
The Centennial State is a welcomin' state but we have a reputation to uphold.
We cain't have jes' anyone roamin' around without bein' somewhat controlled.
Y'all are welcome to visit this great state where deer still play and buffalo roam.
Jes' bring tons of dough to blow, but dang it, leave yer shootin' arns at home!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
given a double whammy
they wanted to double down
on double talk
in the
torrid gust
the summer solstice
its sundry insectile eyes
seething with sultry scorn
in this weather channeled
source of telegenic storms
seasonal shifts are
lost in translation
poisoned neural flowers
the root of
rotting neurosis
the Earth becomes
Venusian
profoundly tragic
hypersonic horses
fly out of the digital barn
they sail over the
northern hemisphere
firing blinding arrows
into the dead brains
The Tropic of Cancer
and Capricorn
relax in the tropics
the Sun lords it
over the equator
precession calmly proceeds
(23.44° is the Magic Number)
all is well
in the best of all
possible
flatlands
Beautiful View?
Through the transparent glass in my window I stare,
Among flatlands, the sight of a hill is quite rare.
At last, in my view, a small mountain, no stump...
Magical still, though it’s the city-owned dump!
Contest Name: “Your Best Four-Line Light Verse, No.2 Poetry Contest
Sprawling eagles' wings of freedom glean upon this God blessed land.
Huckleberries abound upon rich forest tapestry.
Salmon spawn in glistening waters aplenty.
Indigo mountains are crowned with crisp doilies.
Laughing waves clap upon coastal pebbles and sands,
with dunes designating an anticipated vacation.
Flatlands form the heartland foundation.
Demographically diverse are we.
Prideful skyscrapers collide with weather of every sort.
Churches, temples, cathedrals, and synagogues safely abide in city scenes.
A smorgasbord of aromatic awe permeates food cart streets, as authentic and varied as American souls.
With skin, hair, and eyes preciously unique, we share similar pleasures.
Churros, gyros, spatzle, spring rolls, kielbasa, pizza, and tikka masala kababs burst with awaited flavor.
Aquatic centers, theaters, stadiums, museums, amusement parks, festivals, and malls sprawl
with leisure excitement.
Families thrive as children are taught to read and write and parents sacrificially provide food, clothing, and a sanitary shelter.
We are free to own land, raise animals, and harvest from our garden.
Founded on Christian principles and faith, we work hard to earn our signature grandeur and pray hard to keep it.
1-3-2020
utterly bewildered
I stood by the nightfall
of stilly midsummer
withering away
with my
westward companion
the glimmering light
of former fears
and penitent pocketbook
faded in a distance
and the imperious presage
of perfunctory morrow
drifted with driftwood
into the vast greenish seas
then the evening was renewed
with foliage flavor
willows and poplars
entwined and enthralled
and according to accordion
divine divers live in flatlands